Longing for a long-lost brother

Saturday

Mar 8, 2014 at 6:00 AM

By George Barnes TELEGRAM & GAZETTE STAFF

There is a sadness about Sally Knorr Fussell when you talk to her, a sorrow she says never goes away.

Mrs. Fussell, a former Templeton resident who lives in Ocala, Fla., lost her brother, Donald, in 1972 as the family was moving to Florida. Her heart aches to see him again. Sorrow and guilt keep her searching for him, even as others have given up.

Mrs. Fussell won't quit for two reasons: love and guilt. She said the guilt is that she may have driven him away while moving to Fort Myers, Fla. Her brother joined her and her family on the trip. Other family members were expected to join them later. In Maryland, they stopped for the night, and she discovered that Donald, who would be 72 today, had been drinking. She had sharp words with him.

"I really got onto him," she said.

Before they went to bed that night, Mrs. Fussell said she thought they had reconciled, but when they woke up, he was gone. He disappeared that night and has not contacted family or friends since. He vanished, or nearly disappeared off the radar. Someone reported seeing him in 1992 in Gardner. Over the years there have been other sporadic reports, but nothing that would help her search. She fears the worst but hopes for better.

Mrs. Fussell said that when he disappeared, the family contacted police. Since then, she has searched for him in any way she could think of. When she contacted the Social Security Administration, she was told they could not find a number. At the suggestion of the Dear Abby advice column, she contacted the Salvation Army, with no luck. She also contacted motor vehicle registries in several states. She put up posters and contacted news media, but got nowhere with her search.

Donald Knorr, her brother, worked for Conant Ball Co. in Gardner before traveling south. He is 5 feet 8 inches tall with brown eyes. His hair is probably gray. It was brown when he disappeared.

It has been 41 years since he vanished, but Mrs. Fussell has never given up hope. Other family members have told her to give up, that he is no longer alive. She said she can't. She is 71 now, and has been searching for more than half her life.

"I feel real guilty because I got onto him and he left," she said. "I want to find him. I want him to know I love him."

At any time, hundreds of thousands of people are missing in this country. An amazing number — 2,300 a day — go missing. The National Center for Missing Persons has a long list with photographs of people who have disappeared, often without any trace. Some choose to disappear to get away from some problem they no longer wish to deal with. Some have mental health problems, or alcohol or drug problems. Some have financial problems. Some are elderly. Many are juveniles. Although they come from many walks of life, they leave behind sorrow and confusion.

To lose someone is the most helpless feeling in the world. People can disappear almost before your eyes and quickly be long gone.

Our family temporarily lost one of my uncles several years ago, and it was awful. He was suffering from Alzheimers disease, but was still physically able to get around and drive. He could have gone anywhere. He had ties in many parts of the country.

We were lucky. An alert police officer found him in Kentucky. He seemed confused. When the officer checked him out, he learned he was listed as missing.

Most families are not that lucky.

In Sally Knorr's case, it has been 41 years of sorrow and searching. She said she will never give up, but hope is a difficult thing to sustain for a lifetime, when there is so little to keep it alive.

Contact George Barnes at george.barnes@telegram.com. Follow him on Twitter @georgebarnesTG.